Route 4
by SpiritOfMetal
Summary: The desert is a dangerous place, even for a pokemon indigenous to it.


_Authors note: I do not own the pokemon universe, but I describe it as I picture it. I do, however, own all of the characters that I create. More chapters to come!_

_In this chapter, italics are a flashback/recall of an event._

* * *

Wind whipped across sun bleached boulders.

Once rough, relentless wind, sand and heat had turned the rocks smooth, their shapes flowing with the surrounding land.

There were no etchings to hold interest in the landscape: as far as the eye could reach, there was only sand, and past that, the atmosphere blended into a shimmering salmon haze to which nothing was distinguishable.

On the horizon to the west, the sun was beginning to set. Not a cloud hovered in the sky, its palette a mixture of pink and yellow.

Powerful straight line winds - the winds that had, in time, carved the stark landscape itself - scooped sand up in invisible mandibles and flung it every which way. Soil billowed over the small outcropping of weathered boulders, grains gathering in their smoothed pock holes.

Beneath the darkness of a slanted boulder, a shadow stirred.

Muffled whumps sounded beneath the rock, becoming louder. A mound of sand was pushed out of the opening. Small claws appeared in the light of the sunset, patting hurriedly at the sand, disappearing back to the darkness that they came from. A moment passed, and more sand was forced out, forming a little slope at the base of the boulder.

Within the rocky crevasse was darkness, almost complete save for a sliver of dimming sunlight. Bulbous eyes glimmered, black iris-rings contracting in the shadows. Broad eyelids slid over the eyes: a veined, milky second membrane flashed briefly.

The large eyed creature shuffled in the darkness, scratching at the cool floor of the small cavern. Once a large mound of sand was gathered, it knelt on its haunches and turned, pushing the sand with a saggy, yellow tail. The pokemon swept the dirt to the entrance of the hole, _whump, whump,_ pressing its tail hard against the gathered dirt until the mound that had formed outside collapsed, light pouring in.

The creature winced, shielding its face with a thin arm from the sudden light. Wind billowed, whipping sand into the small cave, loose skin at the creature's abdomen stirring in the breeze.

After a moment, it peered out, squinting watery eyes.

It had been a while since the pokemon had seen sunlight : a sudden, harsh sandstorm had plunged the world dark in an instant, forming from a powerful storm surge to the east.

_The pokemon had been digging at the roots of a nearby plant, foraging for water, when the storm arrived. Distant thunder was usually the first clue, along with an eerie stillness and the slight scent of wet earth. The creature found this strange, how there was always a smell of moisture before a sandstorm, when the torrents themselves never carried a drop of water._

_Then there was a strange breeze that pulled in the opposite direction that the wind normally blew. A terrifying low rumble, much more persistent and ominous then thunder._

_Last but not least was the behemoth itself, rushing over the desert like a tidal wave._

_This time, the little pokemon barley had warning before sand was everywhere. It remembered the strange silence, but this was easily confused with the common still desert setting that it lived every day. Maybe a slight hint of wet earth. It was the baritone rumble that had froze the pokemon, wide eyes glancing east from the small hole it was digging._

_Less then a mile away was the thick wall of brown. It remembered scurrying over itself, the bush it had been pillaging and several rocks before its small feet made good traction against the sand, little claws clenching loose, crumpled skin upwards in an attempt to not trip._

_It was not fast enough, and the sandstorm descended as the pokemon was only a hundred yards away from its rock shelter. Those last hundred yards were long, every step a labor. It was at times like this that the second membrane over the little creatures eyes did nothing but dig the sand particles deeper; the storm was so fierce that any tears that had managed to form in the creatures eyes were instantly whipped away. After minutes that passed like years, the yellow pokemon stumbled into the rock haven, hitting its large head several times before it found the familiar gap of safety. It dove into the crevasse, eyes squeezed tight and crusted with dirt, and began digging in a frenzy, building up a small wall of sand between itself and the beast howling outside. The dirt did little to nothing to shelter the creature, but every inch meant life in favor of death. After a few seconds of digging, the creature shoved itself the farthest into the crevasse that it could fit and plunged its head in dirt._

For two days, the sandstorm raged. The pokemon had little to no food stocked for events like this, and no water.

There had been a shortage of the regular berries and bits of carcass meat that the creature was usually able to scavenge: it had to rely on pieces of dried plant stems and branches to chew on and suck nutrients from. The little pokemon was so hungry that it immediately gulped down any digestible matter that it could find: there was never enough for storage. Although it was omnivorous, the pokemon thrived on proteins, and the lack there-of was beginning to take a larger toll on its already-lean muscles.

The creature gazed at the desert horizon.

Small shrubs that had existed two days prior were all but covered with sand.

It took a deep, shaky breath through flared nostrils. Having pure air enter its lungs made it lightheaded – another special adaptation of the pokemon's species was the ability to tighten its nostrils, preventing the inhalation of sand. The pokemon could survive for a few days in this condition, taking very long and slow breaths.

Growing dizzy, the pokemon stepped forward. Its squat, bowed legs shivered against the movement, joints aching. Flinching, the pokemon staggered and leaned against a small rock.

The weight of its body was more apparent now. Sure, it had gone days without food – it was used to the emptiness that occupied its stomach. Its species was specially adapted to life in the desert, but to go this long without water...

The pokemon stared at the ground, willing the dizziness to leave.

Loose shed skin that covered the pokemon's lower abdomen, legs, and tail was ragged and dirtied, flaking from lack of moisture. Dust covered the pokemon's naturally creamy abdomen, arms and jaw, appearing as if it were all the same color. Red scales that ran up its stomach curled upwards, taunt skin sticking to rib and pelvic bones. The pokemon's mouth was cracked and dry. Large, saucer eyes appeared dull and yellowed in full lighting. The red crest that sat atop the creatures head hung limply, thin and weathered from wind.

This particular pokemon belonged to the reptilian species called scraggy, although this one hardly looked it: a twig-like being that appeared as though it would collapse into dust with the slightest movement.

It knew water would be a challenge to find with the recent sandstorm covering up plants that held water in their roots with feet of sand.

The scraggy stood, skin-pants sagging.

Glancing haphazardly at the sky, the little scraggy watched as the sun began to set lower, lower behind the rock outcropping.

It was when the desert grew cool, quiet and dark that its biggest hazards emerged.

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_The first chapter is a bit short, but there is more to come. I am tempted to list this story under the 'horror' genre, due to the setting of the story and the way it reads..and perhaps future reasons. Hmmm. Anyways, constructive criticism is appreciated! Please review and tell me what you think._


End file.
